She leans forward, trying to kiss me on the lips but I grab her hair and force her head back. “Cum Sluts don't get kisses, got it?” I bark at her....“Yes, daddy.” Stephanie mutters. She picks up the pace until I can see her clit swelling, aching for some release. I place my hands on her hips to stop her from grinding any further. I slap her bum indicating for her to stand up. I stroke my cock until it is throbbing. “Sit down.” I demand. Stephanie hovers over my cock, as if she is trying to figure. So I decided to fly solo.My stomping ground is a small industrial town in Northern England. It was 2009 and the recession was in full swing which meant Friday nights where not what they once were. The pubs, bars and clubs were not in good health. A lot had closed. Even the ones that we're open only played host to small crowds. It was the kinda place Bruce Springsteen likes to sing about.I stepped into a pub called the Marketplace It was one of the few that still looked good and had a bit of. More

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